


unexpected

by prettywellfunded



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breeding, Dubious Consent, Fade To Black Sex (sorry), M/M, Misunderstandings, Privilege, Social Justice, Underage Sex, my brain says "now for something completely different", transactional sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 16:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettywellfunded/pseuds/prettywellfunded
Summary: For the record, it wasn’t Tony’s freaking idea.He’d never wanted kids.  He has no desire to fuck someone up for life, thanks – the experience of fucking over grown adults and breaking their hearts was more than enough.  Plus as an alpha, the most reliable option to get the kids was to ‘rent a womb,’ which was a creepy fucking euphemism for human trafficking.(originally posted on tumblr as "rented omega")
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 363





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn't the fic any of you were waiting for but it's what I've got, lol. it's also a departure from my usual shit in that there's, A) a normal happy ending, and B) no actual porn? I wanted them to bang at the end? but they didn't want to do it on camera. so. yeah, sorry.
> 
> The first four parts are [cleaned](https://pretty-well-funded.tumblr.com/post/184350737192/ok-ive-seen-your-fav-tropes-to-write-and) [up and](https://pretty-well-funded.tumblr.com/post/184586449912/rented-omega-pt-2) [reposted](https://pretty-well-funded.tumblr.com/post/184783220462/rented-omega-pt-3) [from tumblr](https://pretty-well-funded.tumblr.com/post/184887612817/rented-omega-pt-4), but the last 2 are new.
> 
> begun about 6 months ago in response to the anon prompt: "dystopian AU in which omegas are treated as basically walking wombs but they have to live with the person who rents them until the child is born, alpha!Tony rents omega!Peter to have a heir for SI. He didn't expect he would like the omega so much."

For the record, it wasn’t Tony’s freaking idea.

He’d never wanted kids. He has no desire to fuck someone up for life, thanks – the experience of fucking over grown adults and breaking their hearts was more than enough. Plus as an alpha, the most reliable option to get the kids was to ‘rent a womb,’ which was a creepy fucking euphemism for human trafficking.

But Tony’s no spring chicken, has no one to designate as an heir, and that was making the board and the shareholders terminally nervous.

Long story short, they’d dug up an archaic clause in the bylaws, and now Tony’s procrastinating going home to the penthouse because an omega was…delivered this afternoon and he has a schedule to keep.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, the omega must be a zygote, because apparently the board thought it was important for Tony’s offspring to be its very first ‘get.’

Seriously. Those were the words that came out of their mouths. Like they were livestock.

“Sir,” JARVIS says, “if I may remind you - ”

“No, you may not. I’m not fucking on the board’s schedule, J. They can take that schedule and go fuck themselves.”

“Be that as it may, Sir, your contracted omega went into heat three hours ago and now appears to be in considerable distress.”

Tony swears, putting down his tools and burying greasy fingers in his hair. He’d done too goddamn good of a job programming JARVIS. That stiffly-disappointed-yet-never-improper tone of his makes Tony feel all of twelve. It's the exact sound of human Jarvis pointedly NOT telling pubescent Tony to stop being a dick just like his father.

“How distressed?”

“His temperature is 104, and he’s weeping.”

Tony’s stomach turns. “Pull your punches, why don’t you?”

“You don’t like people that pull punches, Sir.”

“Damn right.”

Knowing what to expect when he gets to the penthouse and actually seeing it are two different things. He's hit immediately by the overpowering smell of omega in heat, instantly recognizable for all its lack of familiarity. The boy is already in place on the goddamn breeding bench someone had thoughtfully erected in the living room, frantically fingering his hole and sobbing.

Tony is seriously an asshole.

Somewhere in this building is a whole file about the kid and what he needs, the rules, etc, but Tony is such an asshole, he doesn’t even know where. “J, anything I need to know?”

“I believe you have all the requisite skills at your disposal, sir,” JARVIS says dryly. “But I would remind you that in accordance with Title 18 of the federal code, no person may establish a sexual tie to an omega that they don’t own outright.”

“Right,” Tony mutters. “No knotting.”

It never seemed that big an ask, before, but now that Tony can feel the itch, the compulsion, driven in his hindbrain by that scent… Better safe than sorry.

“Did they happen to - ”

“Disposable knot rings are available in the bag of supplies that they left on the foyer table, Sir.”

Well, no point in waiting.

*

The first time is, no lie, sort of awful. The kid has just been denied for too long. Tony’s lucky the pheromones are so thick he couldn’t lose wood if wanted to, because he’s certainly not turned on. Between the knot ring and the crying, it takes way too long to come, which doesn’t help anything.

By the time the recommended, you know…steeping time has passed on the bench, the kid has passed the fuck out at an inverted 45-degree angle, which is kind of impressive. He doesn’t respond to Tony’s attempts to wake him up, but he’s a little thing, so once Tony awkwardly hauls him off the bench and into his arms, carrying him to the bedroom isn’t a big ask.

He’s not thrilled about sharing his bed, to be honest, but apparently it’s recommended (during heat, at least), and Tony’s already denied the kid what he needs enough.

Tony, himself, hasn’t slept in over forty-eight hours, and the stress of the whole ordeal has him exhausted. He’s grateful that it takes him all of eight seconds to slide into deep unconsciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everything I know about AI, I learned in 20min on wikipedia, so...grain of salt.

Tony wakes up the next morning to his cock being mounted and ridden like a coin-operated pony.

It’s…well, it’s not a first, but honestly it’s not something that’s happened in a long time. It takes him a minute of staring up at the very young face of the mountee – a face he hadn’t inspected with any kind of detail the night before – to understand what’s going on.

The kid must misinterpret his blank look for outrage or something, because without slowing down, he says, “I’m sorry to wake you up, sir, I just…I just needed…”

“No, it’s fine, help yourself.” 

The kid’s face goes on an interesting emotional journey at that (admittedly a bizarre thing to say, but he hasn’t had coffee yet, alright?). He ultimately chooses not to comment.

The position does make Tony wonder though… “Aren’t we, um. Supposed to use gravity or whatever to help with the…”

“When we can, but it’s not required every time,” the kid informs him. For all the omega-in-heat jokes, he’s remarkably collected. Maybe last night is just what happens when they’re neglected – not like Tony’s met an omega before, much less one that’s in heat. “It’s more important to inseminate me frequently than to use any particular position. The benches are just to make up for the fact that we can’t knot.”

“Ah,” Tony says eloquently, “that makes sense.”

*

“Right, so I’m probably going to regret asking this,” Tony says once everyone’s dressed and he’s got caffeine in his veins, “but how old are you?”

The kid’s face – Peter, his name is Peter – does something complicated. “They didn’t give you my file?”

“Technically I think that they did, I just never, you know. Read it.”

Peter looks as baffled by that as he had by Tony’s offer of caffeine, which is apparently verboten. 

“Look, in all honesty, this was never my idea. I don’t want kids and I never intended to rent a person, but my board has me by the balls, so here we are.”

There’s a degree of alarm and reluctance now, on Peter’s face.

“NOT that any of that is your problem. I was being a selfish jackass last night – I won’t neglect your well-being again. Or, not on purpose. And if I do on accident, just sick JARVIS on me.”

The kid – and he’s definitely a kid – tilts his head, which only enhances his resemblance to a cocker spaniel puppy. “Jarvis?”

“You didn’t introduce yourself?” Tony directs to the ceiling. It’s a pointless but helpful gesture for people experiencing J for the first time.

“Mr. Parker was out of sorts when he got here, Sir. I held off on introductions to prevent undue distress.”

Tony winces at the pointed use of the term, but ignores it. “So that’s J, or JARVIS - if you need anything, he can help. Hell, if there’s anything you just want to know. He’s hooked into all the electronic functions in the entire building, as well as Stark Industries’ databases and the internet at large, so he’s pretty handy.”

Peter’s eyes go huge and excited. “He’s an AI?”

Tony debates the company line for two seconds before shrugging and admitting, “Pretty much, yeah. Just don’t tell anyone.”

He winks, and Peter – adorably, hilariously – blushes. They had a Q&A earlier with Tony’s dick up his ass, and he didn’t look this out of sorts.

“Anyway, he’s used to running herd on me, so if I forget something you need, or forget that you…you know, exist, just tattle and he’ll sort it out.”

“Okay, thank you. And JARVIS?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker?”

“You can call me Peter.”

“I’ll adjust my protocols, Peter.”

*

Tony forgets all about the kid’s age until later when he kills some data compilation time with a skim of his file.

He’s fifteen, but like. Barely. Which. Makes sense. The board was all set on the freshest eggs. It’s not like contracted omegas sit on the shelf long after they hit the minimum age.

No wonder he looks so fucking young. Because he is.

“Sir, Peter is requesting you return to the penthouse at your earliest convenience.”

Duty calls.

*

Stud service is about as arousing as Tony always assumed it would be. He gets off – obviously, that’s the point – but it’s weirdly detached. Purpose-driven. Tony is mostly spurred on by Peter’s pheromones, and Peter by what seems to be a disturbing level of training. He’d rather not think about that. 

The point is, neither of them are mad with lust, exactly.

Tony does all the work this time, for fairness’s sake, has a relatively frustrated orgasm (his body finds the lack of knotting to be very off-putting, apparently), and then Peter puts his legs in the air for good luck.

Tony excuses himself and has JARVIS order takeout. Apparently his file – which Tony still hasn’t read in detail – includes dietary restrictions and preferences. Which, of course it does, the kid’s gotta eat. 

He’s about to make a break for it with his portion of the food when Peter finally wanders out, looking rumpled and flushed and more interesting to Tony than anyone should after he’s been there and done them.

“Where are you going?” Peter asks, sounding disappointed. Immediately, his eyes widen and he backtracks. “I’m sorry, sir, you don’t have to…thank you for…is this larb? I love larb!”

“Yeah, JARVIS said.”

There’s a pointed lack of reply from the AI himself, and Tony sighs, putting his food back down and resigning himself to dinner with the kid. Peter’s only reaction is a blush.

They eat in silence, at first, Tony staunchly ignoring the kid’s side-eye. Eventually the kid starts, tentative, “Mr. Stark, can I ask…how old is JARVIS?”

Tony pauses, doing the math – JARVIS is like his left hand, always there, essential. He hasn’t thought of a time _before_ JARVIS in so long. 

When he pinpoints the year of his programming and subtracts, Tony barks a laugh. “Older than you, apparently.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Tony’s half-expecting some crack on his own age, but Peter looks earnestly impressed and excited. “But other companies only achieved domain-specific expertise in like, 2014. If he’s that old… In the late 90s, IBM had just created Deep Blue. Did JARVIS start as a rules-based system, with later upgrades, or – ”

Tony stares at Peter while he babbles away. “How much do you know about AI?”

Peter’s cheeks pink, eyes falling abruptly back to his food. “I mean, not as much as you, but – "

“Do they – is that…allowed?”

A little frown appears between Peter’s eyebrows. “What, because reading books would make us less fertile?”

Tony blinks at the tone, and then JARVIS, bless him, chimes in, “Sir, no law prohibits the education of omegas, though most finishing schools don’t focus on advanced academics. There is, however, a demand for omegas with a high IQ for individuals like yourself, whose offspring are expected to excel. In fact, Peter’s intelligence was one of many factors that lead the Board to choose him.”

Peter looks flustered and embarrassed. 

“I’m an asshole, kid, I’m sorry. I don’t know much about…” He waves his hand vaguely.

“The treatment of one-third of the total population?” Peter snarks.

Tony feels a little smile start to form on his face. _You don’t like people who pull punches, sir._ “Yeah. I’m kind of a dick. So you learned about AI in school?”

“No, like JARVIS said, they don’t officially invest resources in that stuff. But the school’s firewall only blocked subversive sites, and we could get just about anything delivered from the library, so…”

“So you learned it yourself.”

Peter shrugs. “As best I could, yeah.”

“To answer your question, I have some older 'bots equipped with rules-based intelligence - they’re still in the lab, actually, you can meet them. But JARVIS started out closer to AlphaGo than Deep Blue. He was supposed to just be a natural-language user interface, but I overshot the mark a bit.”

By the incredulity on Peter’s face, he understands exactly what an understatement that is.

Tony waves it off. “But yeah, he’s had a lot of upgrades over the years. The biggest limiter was hardware, really – computing power. He’s the whole reason SI was miles ahead in computing technology. Every time I wanted him to be smarter, I had to invent the damn tech myself.”

“That’s so cool. I was talking to him all day. When did he develop theory of mind?”

Before Tony can answer, J chimes in, “Oh, I believe it was the Great Vodka Binge of 2001, wasn’t it, sir?”

Tony laughs. Peter is grinning.

“So he really is self-aware, right?”

“Oh yeah, true AGI.”

“Why isn’t…why doesn’t anybody know about him?”

“J is…” Tony licks his bottom lip, a nervous tick, and only realizes that he’s done it when Peter’s eyes flick down for a moment. “J is special. And frankly, dangerous. Very few people know the full extent of his abilities. I’ve created other AI that are more limited in capacity, but once you get them to a certain point, the only way to keep them limited is to deny them opportunities to learn. And that always seems…”

“Sad,” Peter says.

Tony smiles, warmed by Peter’s comprehension. “I was going to say barbaric, but yeah. Sad works, too.”

A lot, in fact, like keeping this boy locked away just because he can get pregnant. Tony doesn’t say that, but it sits there between them anyway. Just like the larb.


	3. Chapter 3

It takes Tony 5 days of heat and then another sex-free two to ask Peter the question that’s been bugging him. 

He stopped avoiding the kid the same day they talked about AI. Peter is brilliant and enthusiastic and honestly the first breath of fresh air Tony’s managed to suck down in a while.

Not that Tony’s sucked him down. That wasn’t…you know, necessary, so they just didn’t… Well, look, the kid is here for a reason and touching him outside of that seems…ambiguous at best.

What was he thinking about? 

Right, the kid’s brain. If Peter were an alpha, or even a beta, he’d probably be in SI’s intern program by now. At the tender age of 15. _That’s_ how smart he is.

Those aren’t their circumstances, though, and Tony’s brain keeps circling tirelessly around the same thing. He debates whether to ask it for a while, because…while he’s a tactless jackass, he’s not _un_aware of the power he has and that Peter does not.

“Pete,” Tony starts one night over dinner. “I want to ask you a question that’s none of my business. Tell me to fuck off if you don’t want to answer, okay? Like, seriously, in so many words: ‘Fuck right off, Mr. Stark.’”

(Tony would rather Peter call him Tony, by now, but so far no dice. Even with repeated invitations. The kid calls him ‘Mr. Stark’ while Tony is in the process of trying to knock him up. Which is… Not something Tony is thinking about.)

The kid looks tentative but curious, and Tony can only hope he’s sure-ish by now that Tony isn’t the kind of alpha that he needs to be afraid of. 

“What do you want to know?”

Tony struggles for a moment with the wording. “I know you have an aunt who could’ve negotiated a bonding. How did you come to be… How did you end up…”

Peter chews the corner of his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t ‘end up’ anything, Mr. Stark. I chose to enroll as a breeder.”

Tony blinks. “You…chose.”

Peter averts his eyes. “There are worse places for an omega to wind up.”

Tony doesn’t say anything right away. Of course, he knows some of the ugliness that can happen to a boy like Peter. There are harsh punishments for people who misappropriate omegas, but kidnapping still happens. And parents sell omega children. There are forced underage bondings all over the world, not to mention outright rape. 

Tony’s aware, at least peripherally, of all the nightmares that are possible. But Peter’s background seems solid. So that still doesn’t explain…

“I could’ve been bonded,” Peter continues, sneaking him a sideways look. “And with my IQ, probably really well, too. Maybe not someone like you, but, you know…”

“Financially secure.”

Peter snorts a little, and Tony hides a smile. He appreciates the moments where the practiced manners wear thin. “Yeah, ‘financially secure.’ But I didn’t want that.”

To Tony’s knowledge, bonding with a ‘financially secure’ alpha is just about the best fate omegas can hope for. 

Well. Financially secure and _not a total dick_ is better. But…

“You didn’t want that.”

Peter looks away. “People look down on omegas in the breeding program. Either we have no other options or we’re shameless sluts. Or people pity us. We’ll probably never bond. We’ll definitely never get to raise our own kids. But that assumes that we want those things.”

Tony keeps his mouth shut this time, because the kid seems hesitant to impart this wisdom at all. When Peter briefly checks Tony’s expression, he tries his best to keep it neutral.

“If I had gotten bonded, I’d still be breeding stock. The only difference would be that my contract would never expire. In the program, your term ends when your fertility declines…when the odds of getting pregnant just aren’t good enough to receive a fee. Maybe that’s not until your 40s, maybe that’s younger. But after that, you get a stipend, since they know that alphas won’t want you. The state is technically your guardian, but…”

Peter’s eyes slide towards Tony again, probing. And suddenly he gets it. “Freedom. With the breeding program, you eventually get freedom.”

Tony hadn’t realized Pete was tense until all that tension disappears. “Yeah. Freedom, that’s…that’s exactly how I’d put it.”

Tony thinks for a minute, worldview mildly scrambled, but enjoying it. “I can…I can see the value in that. But I’m not sure I understand…your aunt sounds like a formidable woman. And with your IQ, as you said, you would’ve had some leverage to choose an alpha that was…permissive. What made this so much more attractive than that?”

There’s a shadow of disappointment on Peter’s face before the kid buries it, and Tony immediately feels like he’s fallen short. He’s not clear why. It seems like a logical thing to consider. But Peter takes a long time to think before he speaks and Tony can’t help but feel like that’s due to his shortcomings.

“Mr. Stark, what were you doing when you were my age?”

Tony blinks at the change in subjects. “Um. Fifteen…I was a sophomore at MIT.”

“How many patents did you have already?”

“Well, none,” Tony says. “All the patents belonged to SI. But yeah, there were a few small things I’d invented – "

Peter looks impatient, under the careful neutrality. “What were you working on in your lab?”

“Well. Dum-E and U. Their programming, anyway – their hardware was done. The language UI that eventually became JARVIS also started around then. I was tinkering with miniaturizing arc reactors at a theoretical level, obviously I didn’t crack that one for almost 20 years. Some weapons stuff too, probably.”

“Right.” Peter’s looking at him hard now, not shying away. “If you had known…if you had had all of those ideas but no lab, if you had known that no one would give you a lab…if you had known that your ‘best choice’ was to sign your life over to someone who…someone who could keep you from reading a book much less having a workshop. What would you have done?”

Tony is speechless for a minute. If he had been born an omega…well, with his dad, he probably still would have been allowed to invent, but not claim his own inventions. His dad would’ve gotten the credit. Forget MIT, hell, forget a community college. He never would have inherited SI, but after his dad passed, the board would’ve ensured whatever alpha took guardianship would allow him to continue his work. No use locking up the golden goose. 

But if he weren’t a Stark…he tries to imagine staring down the barrel of his options as a middle-class no one with the wrong genitalia and a world who said his intelligence was only worth the genetics he’d pass on to his kids.

Would he have taken the riskier, less socially acceptable option? The way out that Peter found? Yeah. His voice sounds rusty to his own ears when he tells Peter, “I would’ve said to hell with bonding and taken option B, where I might have a workshop eventually.”

Peter smiles a sweet, relieved smile. “Yeah. Yeah. So that’s what I did. I’m just lucky that my aunt loves me enough to go along with it. She could’ve used the money from an omega price. The program doesn’t pay out to the parents. And she knew she’d never see me this way, not for years. It was…it was a sacrifice.”

Tony wants to touch the kid, but doesn’t. “So what do you plan to do with it? Your freedom?”

Peter ducks his head again, going pink. “I mean…in a perfect world, or this one?”

“Perfect world,” Tony says, because he’s always been a moonshot kind of guy, and the world has almost always bent before him.

Somehow, Peter gets pinker. “I’d be you. I mean, not you, because I’d have to raise capital myself and my thing’s more bioengineering than mechanical, but…”

“Your own company. Tech. Innovation.”

“Yeah,” Peter says shyly. “That’s pie in the sky though, no way it’s possible in my lifetime. Maybe our kids or grandkids.” Peter’s head shoots up, and he stutters out, “I don’t mean ours, sir, not that any kids could be ours, they’d be yours, I just meant - “

Tony waves it away. “I know what you meant. A generation or two.”

“Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

“You don’t think we could get there by the time that you’re 40.”

“I mean, it would be great, right? But nobody’s pushing the needle. So no, I don’t think so. But I could work for somebody else. I think that might be possible, if I had a great idea. And found a progressive company. If I’m lucky, and persistent, and…nothing at all goes wrong.” Peter huffs out a laugh.

Tony feels something kindle, like an invention that hasn’t developed yet. He can feel it in his belly. 

He keeps his voice casual. “I was gonna head down to my lab after dinner. You wanna come?”

The gobsmacked look on Peter’s face is well worth the shitstorm Tony will be in if Legal (or God forbid, PR) finds out that he let an omega into his _personal lab_. “Really?? Yeah!”

Tony grins. “Great. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original a/n: oh my goodness, this is getting so sappy - THIS is the Tony Stark of my heart, if you’re wondering. it’s like the exact opposite of the kidnapping fic and it’s actually a great palette cleanser, haha.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes Peter two weeks in an adequate lab to invent a new adhesive unlike anything Tony’s ever seen. Compact before dispensed, strong as hell, but capable of dissolving after a while. Tony has a dozen different applications in mind within ten minutes of seeing it.

Peter is modest and self-effacing about the whole thing, and doesn’t seem to consider this his “great idea” – the one that might get him a mid-level position in a progressive company if absolutely nothing goes wrong. 

Tony doesn’t point out that, were he an alpha with business savvy, this invention could launch an empire. He knows Peter knows that, and it’s cruel to rub it in.

Technically, the intellectual property rights for the adhesive belong to Tony now, by virtue of his guardianship. Even if that weren’t so, another alpha might just take it and call it his.

Instead, Tony quietly files a patent in the name of a shell company he creates for Peter, then signs a contract on behalf of SI allowing them to develop applications. Peter’s company will get a cut of everything they ever make with it.

He doesn’t tell the kid, yet. He feels oddly guilty about the whole thing. About the fact that the measure is necessary. About the gratitude Peter might feel towards Tony, when all he’s done is not be a thief.

*

Sometimes, when Peter's asleep, Tony spends hours on internet forums, educating himself on the reality of omega's lives. That feeling of falling short in Peter's eyes still haunts him. At first it's pride that drives him to learn, and then as he does, the realization that Peter shouldn’t have to spoon-feed him the truth.

It feels criminal, the things that Tony didn't know.

*

He and Pete play in the lab together for weeks – sometimes Peter’s off doing his own thing, sometimes he helps Tony do his. Tony arranges a consulting contract on Peter’s behalf and pays for his time any day he’s working on SI development, or even Tony’s pet projects. 

Peter doesn’t have to sign, or even be told. That’s how much (how little) legal standing he has.

Tony gets a fucking tax break for managing an omega account.

Technically, he still owns the company and its account and everything he’s securing for Peter. But he promises himself that he’ll fix that in time.

*

Quietly, carefully, and most importantly without the board knowing, Tony forms a PAC and a 501(c)(3) foundation to push for omega equality.

*

Peter’s been in the guest room since his heat passed, and his utter lack of objection at being moved had confirmed for Tony that it was the right choice. 

A little less than a month later, Tony’s woken by a dim glow from the hallway as Peter pushes into his bedroom.

“Pete? Is something wrong?”

“I’m, uh. I’m in pre-heat, Mr. Stark.”

Oh. Tony squints but Peter is backlit; he can’t see his face. “Hey, c’mere. What can I do?”

Peter perches on the edge of the California king like Tony might kick him out. “Could I…could I stay here?”

Conventional wisdom says that omegas crave physical contact during their pre-heat, but honestly, Tony’s growing less and less sure he can trust any convention. “Yeah, of course. C’mon. You want to just be in the bed, or do you want me to hold you?”

Peter answers by sliding under the covers and worming over until he’s plastered against Tony’s side, face all but buried next to Tony’s armpit. He mumbles something that Tony can’t catch.

“Once more with enunciation?”

Peter doesn’t say anything right away. When he does, he sounds like he’s not sure how he feels about saying it. “I’m sorry I didn’t get pregnant the first time. I know you don’t… I know you don’t want…”

“Hey, sshh, let’s not worry about what I do or do not want, kay? It couldn’t matter less." Tony takes a deep breath and rubs Peter's back. There's a strange, tight ache in his chest. "Go to sleep, kiddo."

Peter sighs and snuggles somehow deeper into Tony’s arms, head getting heavier by the minute until Tony is sure he’s asleep.

Tony wishes he could follow, but he doesn’t. He’s too busy wondering when exactly he got in over his head.


	5. Chapter 5

Tony keeps things as professional, as impersonal, for the second heat as they did for the first. They've become friends and Tony likes to think that Peter trusts him, but…this part of their relationship should be business. It's not…it's just a contractual obligation.

Tony has to trust Peter's word when he says that he chose this life with intention. But that doesn't mean Peter's consented to being…intimate. That's not…that's not the same thing at all. 

So Tony thinks of it as what it is: breeding. A mechanical act that leads to a goal.

Beyond the sex, he lets himself show affection. Peter deserves to know that he cares. Peter deserves to have contact that isn't focused on reproduction. Sometimes they're naked and still wet with their own fluids when he gets it, but that's not…that's not relevant. Tony's hands stay in safe places and he restricts himself to forehead kisses, and his eyes never linger where they shouldn't.

Sometimes he loves Pete so much it's hard to breathe, but that hardly matters.

*

When Peter starts his pre-heat for a third time, he cries. He cries in Tony's arms and apologizes over and over, and is inconsolable no matter how hard Tony tries to comfort him. Tony's glad that Peter's too caught up in his own pain to notice _his_ glassy eyes.

He doesn't give a flying fuck that Peter isn't pregnant. But it kills him that the thought of another heat with Tony hurts the kid this much.

*

"What if I can't get pregnant?" Peter says after the fourth heat. 

They're in the lab. Peter's head stays buried in his work. 

Tony opens his mouth to say 'who cares,' then swiftly closes it. Easy for him to say, but for Peter, fertility is financial security. Still… "Pete, I have a whole medical file that assures me every test under the sun has confirmed you're fertile. On the other hand, no one made _me_ so much as jizz in a cup. If anyone's the problem here, it's probably me."

He's not telling Peter anything he doesn't know, which is probably why Peter's whole body still radiates despondency. "I just wish you didn't have to…" 

Peter's breath hitches and Tony feels distinctly ill.

He has to force himself to stay on his stool and not reach for Peter.

After six failed heats, Tony's required to submit to testing. 'Wombs' are valuable resources. The breeding program goes out of its way to avoid offending alpha's sensibilities, but not indefinitely. 

There's nothing to stop him from getting tested sooner. Except…

Tony rolls within arm's reach of Peter, but he doesn't reach out. He ducks his head to catch the kid's eye. "Pete. I can get tested now. But if it's bad news, you'll be reassigned. I don't know if – "

"Please don't." Peter clutches his arm, eyes big and watery and pleading. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark, I'll… I didn't mean that I want to go. Please don't make me."

"I'm not – " Tony chokes on his next words: 'going to make you do anything.' What horseshit. "Okay," he says quietly. "I won't. I was just offering."

Peter slumps in relief, but his expression remains utterly miserable. "I know you never wanted this in the first place. And I'm so…I'm so grateful for everything you've done, Mr. Stark. I just wish I'd get pregnant so you wouldn't have to breed me."

Tony's heart aches. "We can stop. We can just…wait it out."

Peter huffs. "There's not much point in that. We should try to fulfill the contract while we can."

"Pete, I don't give a flying fuck about the contract. If you don't want me to breed you, then I'm not going to put you through it again."

Peter frowns. "Wait…what?"

Tony's speechless for a moment. "I thought… Kid, what you want is so much more important to me than what my Board wants. Tell me I've made that clear to you."

Peter frowns. "No, that's…what _I_ want isn't…"

"Of _course_ it is! Of _course_ what you want is important!"

"No, that's not – wait, stop. Stop talking." Peter thinks for a minute, eyes probing at Tony's, and Tony has to bite his tongue, literally, to keep from violating his request. "I don't mind spending heats with you, Mr. Stark. You're respectful. You – " For some baffling reason, Peter looks embarrassed. "My only problem with it is the fact that _you_ don't like doing it."

Tony gapes at him. "What – "

"You made it pretty clear from the beginning, and like…at the time I was relieved, you know? It made everything, just…what it was. I thought it might be different after we knew each other, but it was still just…and that was fine! Is fine. It's fine that it's just breeding and not, you know…"

The kid sputters to a halt, and turns the color of a tomato. Several things become apparent to Tony all at once. 

"…I always thought Gift of the Magi plots were bullshit."

Peter's embarrassment fades into confusion. "Gift of the what now?"

"Where everybody makes unnecessary sacrifices for everyone else based on – you know what, it's too boring to even describe. I just always thought they were awful plot devices. Yet, here we are." There's a little glow of hope inside Tony that he can't make himself squash, yet. "Pete, I never wanted _kids_. And I never wanted to have sex with anyone who didn't want to have sex with me. But I never…" Fuck it. "I fell in love with you the first month. I just didn't want to…take advantage. Any more than I had to."

Peter stares. "You love me?" 

Tony's flayed open, but he's not scared. "Yeah, kid. How could I not?"

Peter reaches out and takes one of Tony's hands in his, eyes lowered a little shyly as he plays with Tony's fingers. "I always had a…crush, I guess. When they sent me here, I was so scared…so scared you'd turn out to be. Like everyone else. But then…you listened to me. Tried to understand me. Wanted to spend time with me. I was a little hurt that you weren't interested that way, but like…who am I, you know?"

Tony reaches for Peter's face with his heart in his throat. Cups it carefully and just looks, the way he's wanted to. "You're amazing. That's who you are. You're…" He shakes his head, unable to form the words.

"Will you kiss me?" Pete asks, like he's still embarrassed. It's something they've never done. It wasn't…necessary. Wasn't appropriate. Until now.

It occurs to him that it might be Peter's first kiss, period. Either way, Tony's gonna do it right.

He stands up and extends a hand to Peter, who takes it with heartbreaking hope. Tony pulls him to his feet and backs him against the lab table.

Tony eases him into it, the way he would if it were an organic moment. Pulls Peter close, ducks right into his space and waits for Peter to close the gap. Keeps it short and chaste. Hardly pulls away before a repeat. Again and again until Peter's hands are fisted into Tony's shirt and he's straining for more.

And then Tony gives it to him. Indulges them both with a long fall into a soft and dreamy kiss that's still chaste, relatively speaking – no tongue – but long and heated and serious.

When they finally pull away, Peter looks dazed. "Oh, wow."

Tony can't help the smile that spreads on his face at the breathy little phrase. Can't help the laugh that bubbles up on its own. "A+ eloquence there, Peter Parker. Well said."

Peter's nose crinkles as he smacks Tony's shoulder. Tony feels soft. Soft and giddy and foolish and light.

"Hey, here's an idea – let's go make out in my bed for long enough to make up for all the time we could've been kissing before."

Peter grins, coy and teasing when he says, "Just making out?"

"Hmm." Tony kisses Peter's hand, full to bursting with affection. "I'll leave that to your discretion, since I clearly can't be trusted to make these decisions."

"What if my discretion is to um. Do other things? Non…baby-producing…things?"

It's adorable that, even now, Peter's ears are pink even though he seems more excited than shy. "Then I'd say I serve at your pleasure."

Well now Peter's cheeks are pink as well. 

Tony lets himself be tugged towards the elevator, already plotting the steps in the back of his mind to gain permanent custody of Peter. It's not usually done, but like everything else, it has a price. He'll have to contact his personal law firm. 

But…in the morning, after Peter's whims are satisfied. And after they've talked it over, of course. Tony assumes that Peter wants to stay, but he shouldn't get the legal wheels moving until they discuss it. And if Peter wants, they can draw up some sort of document to – 

"Tony, are you even listening?"

Whoops. Luckily, Peter looks more fondly exasperated than angry. "I tried, but I was contemplating these non-baby-producing activities of yours. Tell me, can they involve my mouth and your everything?"

Peter's flushed and grinning and almost sparkling with glee, and Tony thinks he'd move the world to keep that look on the kid's face.

So…sure. He will.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact, I actually wrote this magazine-style epilogue after Tony got a taste of Peter's intelligence in pt 2, and that's how I knew I had to complete this fic so I could eventually share it, lol.

#### THE FUTURE IS OMEGA: Famous Futurist Tony Stark Bets His Legacy on Social Change

The last fifteen years have seen a wave of positive change for omegas. They can own property, negotiate their own legal interests, and bring criminal and civil charges against parties that wrong them – even when, as is often the case, that party is their alpha.

And then there's the big one: omegas entering the workforce. It's a change that will make all future changes possible and all current changes enforceable. Financial independence is huge when all of your labor has been valued at $0 since the Industrial Revolution.

It's still not easy. Omegas who exercise any of these rights face discrimination and public shaming. But it's a hell of a lot of progress in a relatively short time.

What you might not realize – what nobody knew until recently – is that much of this progress can be traced to one man. Tony Stark is best known as a futurist and tech genius, but for the last twenty years, he's also played the role of secret social crusader.

What brought him out of the shadows? Love or retirement, depending on who you ask.

Stark raised eyebrows nineteen years ago when he made the controversial move of bonding his until-then contract omega. That tabloid fodder has nothing on his latest move, which has shaken the business world to its core: he's named his significantly younger omega, Peter Parker, as the heir and CEO of the multinational, thousand-pound gorilla known as Stark Industries.

If Parker (who retained his surname after bonding) does take the helm, he'll be the first omega CEO in history. At a time where other omegas are still fighting for menial positions, the decision is unprecedented.

And it's causing plenty of uproar. Stark is smirking when he admits, "The Board was so pissed when they realized there's nothing that speaks against it in our company charter. No one ever thought it had to be said. Their shortsightedness is our gain."

And now that omegas are a protected class under civil rights legislation (another Stark-backed win), other companies would close that loophole at their own peril.

The fight's not over yet. SI stock has been fluctuating wildly since the announcement, but Stark doesn't seem the least bit concerned. "They'll calm down once they meet the kid," he says. Stark's habit of calling his 35-year-old mate a 'kid' is intractable, apparently. "He's as smart as me, and a whole lot more clear-eyed about the world. Plus, he sure as hell had the best mentor in the business," Stark refers to himself with a deprecating smile.

"Basically, all their excuses are bullshit," he adds.

It's difficult to argue with that. As some cry that Parker is too young, Tony points out he's fourteen years _older_ than Tony was himself, when appointed CEO. Inexperience is even harder to argue when Stark's meticulous records show that Parker has been driving SI's innovation and direction since his teenage years. In terms of technological breakthroughs, he's second only to Tony Stark himself.

As the business world quakes, the tabloids have begun to swoon. After all, Tony and Peter's history is one of those Cinderella stories that Hollywood B-plots are made of.

Stark is less enthusiastic on this angle. "I wouldn't change meeting Pete for the world. But I know some people will romanticize our story, and it wasn't romantic. It reduced us both to rutting animals, and I still resent it. I'm still ashamed of it. And that's good. Because I should be."

It's worth noting that, despite his fertility, Peter Parker has never been pregnant. That's led to nasty rumors about Tony shooting blanks and public pressure for him to defend his alpha virility. But the billionaire refuses to confirm or deny. "Look, the fact is, Pete never really wanted to have kids. That's all I ever needed to hear for it to become a non-starter. It's all _any_ alpha should need to hear. If you're so insecure about public opinion of your ball sac that you'll to force someone else to carry a fetus, I'd say that's a bigger blow to your alphahood than any medical condition could be."

Since their bonding, Stark has devoted the medical arm of his business to rendering meet-cutes like his own obsolete. In the last twenty years, he's pushed through groundbreaking research for alpha-omega _in vitro_ that is rapidly driving the contract system extinct.

"Someone should've done it a long time ago – it was harder, technologically, than beta _in vitro_, but it's not rocket science. The fact is, a generation of guys just like me said 'fuck it, banging a teenage omega is more fun than jizzing alone in a cup.' And for that, they ruined millions of promising young lives."

Stark predicts that soon, seeing single, pregnant omegas in the workplace will be possible. And maybe even commonplace. Thanks to Stark, companies can claim tax breaks for hiring them. "Some alpha-beta or alpha-alpha couples will still need surrogate services, but now it can be a medical procedure. A paid service – one that's valuable – which won't involve human trafficking and r*pe. Omegas can choose whether or not to participate, be compensated fairly, and still have a career or fall in love with whoever the hell they want."

But wait, back up, didn't he 'bang a teenage omega'? Doesn't that mean he was part of the problem?

"Well, yeah. I'm not going to make a bunch of bullshit excuses. I was complicit in the system – a passive part of it, maybe, but complacency is its own evil. So yeah, I bought into a shitty system and Peter had to live with my actions. It worked out alright for us, but we're not the norm. We got lucky. _I_ got lucky – very lucky."

It's not just medical change Tony's been funding. It's the political and social change we've seen, as well. Mr. Stark's money was behind the bulk of major omega's rights initiatives, even where he wasn't making decisions. He's funded political campaigns at every level, from school boards to presidential runs. He provided seed money for omega support services like shelters and abortion clinics, schmoozed law enforcement into creating special-crimes task forces, and quietly launched a generation of marketing, media, and journalism focused on exposing the lack of omega rights.

Some argue that his campaigns pushing omega equality are tantamount to astroturfing, but Tony has a different perspective. "We were simply tapping into what was already there. I think people have an innate sense of fairness, a little Jiminy Cricket that says 'that's not right' when someone lays out the simple reality of omegas' lives. All we did was make the facts plain. The American people did the rest."

If you think that sounds suspiciously presidential, you're not the only one. Speculation is rampant about his aspirations for a political career. Is it possible there's a run for higher office in Mr. Stark's future?

"Once upon a time, I would've said no. That I was serving the greater good by holding tight to the reigns of one of the biggest corporations in the world. But now the company's future is secure...in better hands than my own, to be honest. So, what the hell? Maybe. Everybody needs a hobby when they retire, right?"


End file.
